Why I Always Start With Breath

I used to think yoga was about the poses. Most people do, at first. You see the images, warrior two, headstand, someone impossibly folded on a beach, and you think the practice lives in the body's shapes.

I changed my mind about fifteen years ago, sitting with a student who had come to class visibly wired, phone in hand until the last second, jaw tight, breath shallow and up around her collarbones. We hadn't moved yet. I asked her to breathe with me for three minutes. Just that.

By the time we were done, she was a different person in the same body.

That's what breath does. It doesn't need a mat, flexibility, strength or even much time. It needs your attention, that's all.

The reason I always start my classes with pranayama is simple: whatever you brought through the door with you, breath gives you a way to set it down. Not forever. Not magically. Just long enough to arrive.

Try it now, if you like. Three minutes. Notice your breath without changing it. See where you are at the end of that time versus the beginning. That's the practice. Everything else grows from there.